Controlling Me
by Jibaku-Chan
Summary: *rated for disturbing surgery* Another songclip. Shock. The events leading to the songclip "It Slips Away". Zim gets his final revenge on Dib in the only way he can. to "Hellbent" by Kenna.


AN: Yeah, I know, the first one was sad enough...but i wanted to do a videoclip from Zim's point of view. This is really, really depressing. Zim dies, sadly and painfully. Hell, I felt bad writing it. But I needed to do soemthing from Zim's perspective...so I decided that I'd do the events leading up to It Slips Away. Im thinking of doing one last songclip and tying it together as a trilogy...lemme know what you think. Oh, and thanks for all the support everyone...Im doing alot better now. ^_^ And the song lyrics, by the way, I hand transcribed from a music video. so if theyre messed up, you know why...Oh, and The Morning Star is a fancy biblical way for saying Lucifer, the Devil, Senor Diablo, you know...okay. Enjoy. Or at least try.  
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Title:Controlling Me  
Author:Jibaku-chan  
Summary:The events leading up to "It Slips Away". Zim gets his final revenge in the only way he can. To the song "Hellbent" by Kenna.  
Warnings:Dear lord, its depressing and quite frankly not that good, but it needed to be done. At least I thought so.   
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"The subject, Zim...he's still struggling..."  
  
"Hold him still, I'm putting in the scoping tube."  
  
"Wont that hurt him? We should use a local anesthetic at least."  
  
"We took out so much of his brain, I doubt he can feel it."  
  
"That's true...inserting now..."  
  
"My God! Look at him squirm! Is that a nerve reaction?"  
  
"I don't see how he could be feeling it..."  
  
"I don't see how he COULDN'T."  
  
(Am I the key  
of friction and heartache?  
And the pain is of no consequence...  
When I'm Hellbent)  
  
He lay, inert, on the table. his breathing had slowed. His heart was still pounding, very slowly. Just enough to keep the weakened blood moving from one place to another in his body. Just enough to keep him barely alive.  
  
His body was slow, but still feeling. He was unresponsive, but still there...he could feel every single probing piece of metal they placed in his body. He had laid there for weeks, maybe months, he wasn't sure. He was growing weaker. Sensing the imminent death of their subject, the scientists only worked faster, propping his pale green skin open with iron hooks and taking notes as quickly as they could.  
  
He held his secrets to himself. He had learned to ignore the pain in hopes of escape-he had given up on escape in the physical sense, it was impossible, and they would only catch him again. However, he could ruin their use of a live subject...  
  
The last few days had been agonizing. He hadn't allowed nutrients to enter his system, despite their use of IVs and transfusions to force his body into submission. All throughout his resistance, all they knew to do was to insert more and more into him, take more and more of his control away. They now controlled all of his major bodily functions-merely in an effort to keep him from stopping his own heart.  
  
(When I'm Hellbent  
My walls are closing in  
Controlling me  
Is losing me)  
  
The pain, the pure physical and psychological torment, was unfathomable. He had no scale to judge it on or compare it to. It felt like his entire body was being torn apart by white-hot wires...and it was all self-inflicted. At any moment, he could have stopped it all, accepted the nutrients, stopped resisting.  
  
He refused.  
  
Perhaps it was his Invader's blood, insisting on carrying on. Perhaps it was his disgust for the humans and their machines. Perhaps it was his wish to see Dib eat his own words...whatever it was, he was hellbent on continuing his quest of self-elimination.  
  
He knew something they didn't, as well...every hook they inserted, every device they used, just made him weaker and weaker. Soon, no matter what, he would be too far gone to research on anymore. Then his body would reject their wires and hooks and his corpse would be a pale husk. By controlling him, they were merely helping him remove himself...in a far corner of his brain, where his intellect wasn't yet devoured by the pain and fear, he was amused by the irony.  
  
(Am I awake?   
The Morning Star  
That brings me here  
And everything within me  
between Pluto and God)  
  
His mind had perhaps suffered more then his body. His mind, once a brilliant cohesion machine, had degenerated to the point where its only function was to ensure his coming demise. He had lost the ability to tell whether he was awake or alseep-not that it mattered.  
  
Damn Dib. Damn Dib to the bottom of hell damn him. His mind was unraveling, chanting a mantras of hate at his captor-the morning star, son of darkness, that's all Dib was for bringing him to this place of pain he lorded over. Dib was playing Satan over Zim's personal hell. Every slice, every burn, every lost piece of flesh or ounce of blood-it was because of him.  
  
This though strengthened him. Everything within him rose in hatred and anger towards one focal point-Dib. It made him stronger, which made him weaker, which made him even more determined to put an end to their experiment once and for all.  
  
(I'm Hellbent  
I feel their claim  
Controlling me is losing me  
My mind's collapsing and corroding  
And there's only one way out of it)  
  
He listened to the muffled voices of the doctors. They had removed one of his hearing aparatuses-it was probaly laying in a jar or on a sepcimen table by now-but through the remaining one, he could hear their speculative murmuring. He could feel their scalpels implanted in him like enemy flags-claims to his anatomy, claming him for their own. Bastards.   
  
He forced his blood to surge more quickly through his heart. Hew could induce a heart attack, he knew, he was too weak to handle an adrenaline rush right now-  
  
Maybe it was the cowards way out. Maybe it was weak and stupid of him. But he couldn't live. He couldn't just STAY when there was only one way out of the mess still left for him. It wasn't the best way, but it was the way he had to take.  
  
(I'm Hellbent  
My walls are closing in again...)  
  
The blood flowed faster and faster. The murmurs turned to shouts. And as his mind drifted from consciousness for the final time, there was only one thought on his mind...  
  
"Dib, you bastard, I've won at last."  
  
  



End file.
